two sides
by A. X. Zanier
Summary: Life sucks. Good friends make it better.
1. Chapter 1

A/N (the first): I'm about to dive neck-deep into Camp NaNo (I'll be working on the story that follows _dancing with the demons_ ) so decided to post the first half of this story now instead of waiting until the other half is complete as I may not get back to it for a while.

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Title: _two sides_

Author: A. X. Zanier

Status: WIP

Rating: R (Language, violence, sexual situations, the usual)

Fandom: _Marvel Cinematic Universe_

Pairing: Mostly Bucky/OFC

Disclaimer: a) The characters and basic story ideas of _Captain America/Avengers/et al_ are the property of others including, but not limited to Stan Lee, Marvel Studios, Disney Studios. Any additional characters or story ideas are mine. I make no money from this intellectual exercise. b) This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any opinions or views expressed herein do not necessarily reflect those of the author and are used for storytelling purposes only.

Series: another spin-off from _the only hero left_

Spoilers: Oh hell yes. Any part of the MCU is fair game.

A/N (the second): Much like _March 10th, 1917_ this will have some minor spoilers for upcoming chapters of _the only hero left_ , but can most certainly be considered a stand alone as it did not fit directly into that story. Mostly fluff. Some angst. Life is hard. Friends make it suck less.

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"There are two sides to every question." - **Protagoras** **(485 BC - 421 BC)** , _from Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers_

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 _ **side a**_

 _ **.**_

 _Rinn's POV_

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The first warning we had of their return came with the distinctive rumble of an incoming quinjet. I foolishly permitted it to distract me for an instant and took a foot to the side of my head for the trouble. It didn't hurt, not really, and I recovered quickly enough to turn the fall into a roll and gain my feet. The trainee standing there looking shocked that he'd connected a move I'd dodged every previous attempt.

"Hold," I barked and he looked crestfallen, probably thinking I was angry for his success. I quickly assured him. "Excellent." I gave him a half-bow to acknowledge his ability then glanced up at K'Tana who also stared at the sky. Not that we could see much, the edges of this practice ring surrounded by trees nearly as old as the castle which blocked our line of sight to the hanger we'd rigged for the 'jet.

I tapped the comms behind my ear. "Dio, why no heads up?"

" _Apologies, Mistress,_ " he responded in a perfect imitation of K-9. I had begun to regret encouraging him to watch Dr. Who. " _I am currently unable to communicate with my counterpart on board the quinjet and they remained cloaked until within the valley_."

Well, that couldn't be good. If the communications array had been taken out, even with my 'bots to complete repairs on the spot, the damage had to be severe. "K'Tana, have the med team on standby. We might have injuries to deal with."

" _On it_ ," she assured me and disappeared from her vantage point above the class.

She had appeared within hours of Nomad leaving, not wanting to leave Cyko alone and unprotected for any longer than necessary, though I remained uncertain if it had been her decision or T'Challa's. Still, I appreciated her assistance both with keeping me and mine alive and help with the trainees, who had wanted to join Steve on this rescue but were too green by miles. There had been three repeats this time and they had all volunteered and Steve had accepted with only minimal reservations.

Main reason due to the limited space on the quinjet. We only had the one and could not fit a dozen Wakandan warriors on board along with the necessary rescue gear.

Which is why I had been working on getting us more. Not from Tony who would be an ass and hand them to me on a silver platter no matter how pissed off it would make Ross… though, truthfully, that would probably just encourage Tony more.

No, I had gone to T'Challa. I offered him some of my newer designs, ones Tony had never seen, and begun negotiations on, not only building them but getting some existing ones for our use. Yeah, I had free use of Stark private jets, but I always felt like a shitty friend when I used them. I wanted to pay my way in this world, not subsist on handouts from friends. Hell, I could afford to buy my own jets, I just didn't want to have to deal with all the upkeep and, these days, potential corruption of the systems.

The last thing I needed was for the pilots to be working for AIM and take me to another undisclosed location.

So I flew Stark and thanked him as graciously as I could manage every time.

Steve would flip his shit if he knew I had gone behind his and Nomad's back to acquire us more transport, but they were not yet equipped to stand on their own. So I would continue to assist, but only until certain they were ready and then I would shed a tear or two and watch them go.

Steve still not entirely certain of this new path he'd chosen, not as sure as me anyway, and I would happily handhold until that day came.

"Miss?" The trainees had all gathered around me, the sound of the quinjet now a roar on its final approach. It passed over the training field, cloaking device off and the damage evident. It had taken some serious hits from some serious weaponry over the last few days.

"Hangar now. Be prepared for triage."

"Yes, ma'am." My sparring partner spun about taking charge of the trainees without hesitation. He began barking orders in Wakandan, the rest responding without question or argument, though a couple glanced my way. I gave them quick nods, agreeing with the division of labor he'd set up.

They all moved.

I ran for the hangar.

I arrived as the 'jet wobbled its way to the ground. When the engines cut out unexpectedly it dropped the last several meters and hit hard enough for us to feel the earth shudder beneath our feet. It clearly would not be rolling into the hangar under its own power.

Nothing moved for so long I seriously debated the merits of banging on the damn door to get their attention. When it finally opened I understood why it had taken so long since Steve and one of the Wakandan's were pushing it down, the motor dead for whatever reason. Once low enough Steve gave a massive shove then jumped on the not quite horizontal surface sending it into the turf with a whoosh of air and a solid thud of metal to the ground.

I wanted to snark about breaking my bird, but then I got a good look at Steve and swallowed my words.

His kevlar and vibranium lined armour had been damaged beyond easy repair. The black material shredded so badly you could see skin beneath. Not the bright blue compression shirt that should be there, but _skin_. Bruised and bloodied flesh that had just begun to heal.

"Holy shit," I breathed out. I rushed forward as the Wakandas stumbled out, looking marginally better than Steve, which meant he'd made certain to take the brunt of the damage to protect the far more fragile normal humans. "I thought this was a rescue?"

"So did we," Sam griped as he stumbled down the ramp, Wanda next to him. Sam limped, his knee clearly swollen and in need of medical attention. Wanda didn't look much better. Half her face a bruise, the white of her eye red with blood instead of her power. Her hair on that side looking as if it had been burned off, half the length gone, the red jacket missing the arm, also burned away, the skin red and raw, but intact for the most part.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered. "Gurneys, now."

Wanda shook her head. "We can walk."

"Speak for yourself, Witch," Sam grumbled as two of the trainees appeared by his side, taking his weight. They laced their hands together behind Sam and lifted him up in their arms with ease.

"Your wings?" I asked, hoping like hell he hadn't been shot out of the sky.

"Damaged, but repairable, I hope," the pain etched into his voice.

I turned to Wanda who refused to allow another pair of trainees to carry her. "Stay by her side, but if she can walk on her own, let her."

They nodded and Wanda gave me a grateful if weary smile. "I am tired, but not yet dead, I think."

I set a hand on her shoulder, the one that appeared to be undamaged and gave her a gentle squeeze. "You will let them examine you, yes?" I wanted to make it an order but knew better. Wanda and I got along well enough, but I most definitely did not see myself as her boss. Friend, yes, so I did what a friend would do, showed my concern and fear for her health.

She nodded. "Of course. I.. I will want to talk about this, but you have others to deal with first."

I had no idea what she meant, but would always make time to talk to her. She knew I could be counted on to keep her secrets and that I would also understand the complications that came with this superhero gig. "Wanda?"

She shook her head and staggered away with the trainees by her side. Both men well over six feet tall, and each more than capable of carrying her, quite possibly with one arm. Instead, they trailed along only offering assistance when she stumbled over the uneven ground in her exhaustion.

I turned back around to find Steve had reappeared on the ramp, slowly walking towards me. "What the hell happened?"

"Later," he told me, his voice laced with worry and anger. "I promise I will tell you everything later."

I wanted to argue, but James appeared then. He stood at the top of the ramp, in the deep shadows of the quinjet, head hanging down, his entire posture that of utter despair.

Then he lifted his head and I instantly knew James had left the building and he'd given over control to the Soldier.

His eyes locked on mine and he stalked over to me, his body almost rigid in his efforts to control whatever mess currently beat violently on the walls in his mind. Steve shifted until behind me and I could feel his body tense. Afraid James… the Soldier would hurt me.

I knew better.

He stopped in front of me, watching me with a wary gaze that I refused to look away from. An alpha challenge of sorts. One I had never backed down from before. No chance I would start now.

He didn't back down either, didn't lower his eyes in submission, just closed the remaining distance between us and set his forehead on my shoulder hard enough to make me grunt and lock my knees to keep from being driven down to them. His hands found my waist and then slid around me, pulling me against his body. The uniform with its gear not exactly comfortable, but I didn't care. He needed me and I would do whatever necessary to help.

Steve shifted around so I could see him. "Steve, what-"

James' arms squeezed and he growled softly, and I shut up with a squeak. I set my hands on his waist, hoping he could even feel it through the body armour and just raised a single eyebrow in question at Steve.

 _"Not now,"_ he mouthed, making it damn obvious that speaking would be bad. How bad was the real question? " _Will you stay with him?"_

I nodded, barely, but enough for him to sigh in relief.

"Captain Rogers, if you would, the med team is ready for you." K'Tana wisely spoke in a tone that suggested there would not be an option to refuse.

He gave me a world-weary smile and followed her towards the castle leaving me ostensibly alone with James. Others had stayed behind, unloading the damaged quinjet, and, while not interfering, they did glance over at us often, as if to make certain that I remained unharmed.

I simply held James, wrapping my arms as firmly about him as his were about me. Assuring him I was here and would stay until he decided the time to move had come. I didn't speak. What words could I say? Not knowing what had happened anything I said would be nothing but pablum and quite possibly do more harm than good.

I closed my eyes and ignored the world about us, ignoring the weight of the Soldier that I held, the heat of the sun on my back, the sounds of others trying to determine what had occurred without asking any of those there directly.

" _Mistress_?" Dio queried as softly as he could through the comms.

I clicked my teeth to acknowledge him not wanting to disturb the fragile hold James had on reality at the moment.

" _There is a storm coming. You will need to head inside within the next fifteen minutes_."

As if on cue distant thunder rumbled. James flinched, his hold tightening for an instant, enough to force a sound from me in reaction. It hadn't quite hurt, but any tighter and I might get a few broken ribs and that would make him feel that much worse.

Whatever had happened, and something had clearly happened, it fell under the heading of bad. All caps and a dozen exclamation points. I shifted my hands to his abdomen and pushed gently. He loosened his grip but didn't raise his head, instead, turning it to press his lips to the side of my neck and breathe in deeply.

I raised a hand to settle on the back of his head. "Sweetheart, we need to head inside if you feel up to it."

He didn't growl, didn't tighten his grip, but also didn't respond.

With all due care, I took a half step back, actually surprised he let me, cupped his cheeks and encouraged him to lift his head and meet my eyes. "Trust me?" I asked cautiously.

He blinked twice, three times then nodded slowly as if unsure his voice would work. Now that I had a moment I looked him over. His uniform not nearly as abused as everyone else's had been which meant… At a guess, he'd been nowhere near the literal firefight that had injured the others. Not that he was unhurt. Dirt and blood smeared his face, neck, and uniform, but overall he seemed unharmed. I wouldn't know for certain until he told me.

Whatever had happened it had been hellish and left him unable to function as James Barnes.

I took his hand, his left hand, ignoring the dark red stains adorning the metal and encouraged him forward. He followed, not fighting, but seeming unable to manage much more than a reluctant shuffle.

We beat the rain by mere seconds, the downpour arriving with a bright flash of light and the crash of thunder near enough to be felt through the solid stone walls. I debated for a moment where to take him, nixing the med center instantly. He had no interest in being near anyone else right now. Hell, I had to admit not understanding why he'd come to me. It should have been Steve. His best friend. The man who knew him better than anyone else on the planet, and yet… yet he had come to me.

Of all people. Me.

And that… that terrified me.

But it wouldn't stop me from doing everything in my power to put him back together.

I headed to my room, figuring he would need the distance from his life, from James, to get his head screwed back on in the right direction. The Soldier might be lurking behind those blue eyes, but his actions were all those of Bucky. The one Steve remembered. Not the braggart, but the gentle soul who cared far too much about others to ever be healthy.

Diogenes turned on the lights when we entered my suite, but kept them dimmer than normal. He'd been silent in my ear, usually, he chattered at me all day long unless I requested some peace, but today he seemed to understand that my attention had to be on the situation at hand. He could be quite odd on most days, but occasionally showed the genius behind the caricature exterior. He might not understand pain, physical or emotional, the way humans did, but he'd learned enough to recognize it and school his reactions and responses accordingly.

Rain pounded against the window and french doors, the sky outside dark except for those flashes of light as the ferocity of the storm lashed at the solid stone walls. The fury outside seemingly reflecting the turmoil roiling within the man standing beside me.

James froze in the middle of my living room, head swiveling as he inspected the surroundings as if he'd never seen them before. Then again, he, the Soldier hadn't, not while in the foreground. I released his hand and shifted to stand in front of him. "You are safe here."

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't argue.

As I watched a trickle of blood slipped from the gloved fingers of his right hand and onto the floor, which meant he had an injury that I'd missed and that had yet to heal.

"C'mon," I said, taking both of his hands into my own and backing towards my bedroom. He resisted for a moment, the look on his face shifting almost as if there were an argument going on behind those baby blues, but eventually, he trailed along, lips set in a thin line of disagreement, but his eyes looked haunted.

I dragged him into my bathroom and, beginning with the weapons belts and holsters, stripped him. He did little to assist, shifting only as necessary to remove boots and pants. I found the injury as I tugged off the snug uniform jacket. The shoulder with an impressive slice through the material, which should not have been possible given the vibranium alloy within it. I had no clue what had caused it, but it had gone through the material like a hot knife through butter. The wound beneath a four-inch long cut that had only been held shut thanks to the pressure of the armour.

Once it and the shirt had been removed it bled freely, but not worryingly so. Whatever had done the damage had barely hit the muscle, not deep enough to do more than bleed like crazy once exposed to the air.

I switched on the shower, keeping the temperature moderate and urged him under the falling water. Then I stripped down to my sports bra and panties. This had nothing to do with sex, which had happened on more than a few occasions in this very location, but the athletic wear would get heavy with the water so I shucked it.

Right now I doubt he'd care if I wore a pink party hat with matching tutu.

I grabbed the first aid kit, taking the bottle of iodine into the shower with me. The water had already removed the worst of the dirt and detritus, which permitted me to examine him for any other serious injuries. He remained still, only his head moving as he watched me with a wary gaze, not entirely trusting me in his current state of mind.

Or so I presumed.

The Soldier didn't trust anyone really, which kind of begged the question why he'd turned to me for seeming solace.

I cleaned the wounds with the iodine, not getting even a flinch or hiss from him in reaction, just those eyes watching me and blinking away the drops of water that clung to the lashes.

As I cautiously examined the shoulder wound, debating the merits of stitches versus multiple butterfly bandages to hold it shut while it healed he suddenly spoke, "You're still dressed."

"Well, sort of," I agreed, the little I wore not really hiding much from him. He'd seen it all before, so it wouldn't have mattered had I stripped naked. "They'll dry."

He rumbled deep in his chest. "I need to get out of here."

I didn't argue, just shifted out of his way. He stopped in the middle of the bathroom, water and blood dripping from him and forming puddles about his feet. His gaze swung about as if looking for danger in the corners or in the linen closet. Not that there could be anything to find. Just the ordinary bits and pieces of my mostly ordinary life. The exciting parts, those that put life and limb at risk, not often occurring in the bathroom.

I turned off the water and stepped out. I grabbed the biggest towel I had and handed it to him. He stared at it for a long moment before taking it and methodically drying off. I grabbed another to wrap about myself, the cool air of the room making the wet clothes feel icy cold in seconds, then wrapped my hair up in another, getting it out of the way for the time being. I'd deal with my needs once I had James patched up and settled.

The towel about his waist, I encouraged him to sit at the vanity while I cleaned the blood away, dried the area, and applied the bandages. He sat there silent the entire time, head tipped down, seemingly staring in fascination at the stone floor. I taped gauze over it, as it continued to ooze blood, but since it would heal quickly now, didn't worry overmuch. I trotted into my bedroom where I had a stash of his clothes. I hadn't planned it, but he spent just enough time in my rooms that it made sense, plus I had a tendency to steal clothes, so I had a few tees and some of his shorts that would do for the time being. I seriously doubted he gave a flying fuck what he wore at the moment.

The storm still lashed at the walls turning the late afternoon into near darkness even though sunset remained hours away. The turmoil being wrought by nature somehow reflecting that going on inside the man in the next room.

I spun about to find him right behind me. Internally I jumped half a mile and there may or may not have been a startled eek pulled from me unexpectedly. His eyes narrowed, almost as if seeing me as a potential target for having shown weakness.

I shoved the clothes at him. "Put these on."

He cocked his head slightly, his lips twitching as if amused.

"Soldat." Not a question, not a name really, more an acknowledgment. I knew who stood before me and wanted to remind him of that fact.

"Da, Zhelanyie, as you wish." He chuckled darkly as he stepped aside.

I made my way into the bathroom to dry off and deal with the sopping wet mess my hair had become. I vainly attempted to get the snarls out, a consequence of just getting it wet and not taking the time to use a conditioner, when he suddenly pressed against my back. His head rested against mine, that odd sense of desperation hanging over him again. My distraction of near nakedness not nearly enough to keep the memory of what had occurred at bay for long.

I set down the brush and reached about to find his hands. "I'm here."

"You're wet," he mumbled.

I huffed out a breath, his choice of words would be far more interesting in a different situation. You know, not one where I had to hold the cracked remains of his fragile psyche in my fumbling hands. I wanted to fix him, but without understanding what had happened I had no clue how. So I would do as I always did and follow my instincts, give him what he needed in this moment and hope like hell that it helped in some small way.

My Gramps had always been impressed with this talent of mine, where I had always found it a burden. Time away from my work, from my designs, from the visions in my head that required an escape. And yet… yet this gift seemed to be what those about me required most.

I occasionally wondered if any of them liked me for me.

I swallowed down my sudden ire and sense of pride. I couldn't afford it right now. "James-"

He grunted as if kicked, arms tightening about me and discouraging me from continuing my sentence.

Clearly, he did not wish to be called James at this moment.

So, unsure who stood before me, I called him nothing at all.

I encouraged him to loosen his grip, which he seemed quite reluctant to do, but once accomplished simply turned about in his hold. He refused to meet my eyes, head tipped down and most likely ignoring the view of my cleavage. I rested my head against his, my lips near his ear.

"Let me help you."

If he reacted he did not let it show, but given there'd been no refusal I stepped back, out of his hold and took his hand. He didn't argue, didn't fight, simply followed where I led as he had done earlier, his demeanor dark and brooding, more so than his usual wont.

I encouraged him to lie down in my bed, let the towel drop and climbed in with him the little I wore as wet as my still snarled hair, but if he didn't care, then neither would I.

He curled into me, face in my hair, arms about me, our legs tangling together under the covers. He heaved a great sigh, holding me tight for an instant, then melted. His body going soft for the first time since I'd seen him at the top of the quinjet ramp. Letting go of whatever had happened for the moment to just be.

I ran the fingers of one hand through his hair, the other gripped about his left wrist and held on tight, giving him the time to process the madness currently consuming his mind.

A couple hours went by before Dio interrupted his recitation of the damage done to the quinjet and personnel with, " _Captain Rogers is in your kitchen and has requested that you join him_." His voice changed from the computer from Galaxy Quest to Gideon, the time traveling ship from Legends of Tomorrow.

I sighed softly. I knew I'd come to regret giving Diogenes free rein with the Roku.

"Of course he is," I muttered. "Tell him I need five minutes."

" _Yes, ma'am_ ," Dio agreed far too amicably, " _shall I start coffee too. Perhaps make scones_?"

And there came the snark I knew and loved. "Just tell him, please."

The ensuing silence from the comms didn't guarantee he'd done as requested.

I turned to James, who had barely moved since falling into something vaguely resembling sleep, kissed him lightly on the forehead, and then untangled myself from him. He grumbled and shifted as if looking for me. I reached out to run my fingers along his cheek and he settled, though I doubted it would last for long.

I went to my bureau, shucked the still damp workout wear, grabbed something far more suitable to the current situation, and swiftly changed into them. Steve wouldn't care what I wore, so long as I had something on. He'd seen me naked before, but only due to circumstances at the time. He preferred me with my clothes on. Unlike James, which I kind of appreciated.

So when I stepped out of my room I wore my usual sleep wear, brushing the last of the knots out of my hair. Thankfully it hadn't grown past shoulder length, but the snarls had still been impressive, even by my high standards.

As Dio had told me, Steve stood in my kitchen staring out the window admiring the vibrant red of the sunset. The storm had passed while I lay with James and Dio had recounted the mess they'd made of my 'jet. He rolled a glass with dark amber liquid between his hands, a bottle of my better bourbon open on the counter. I didn't mind him dipping into my stash too much seeing as he'd bought that particular bottle for me. Though he could share, given how hard that particular one was to come by.

"I thought it was a standard rescue mission?"

He twitched. A rare event given his enhancements. How deep in thought must he have been to not hear me approach?

"So did we," he responded, not turning to look my way; just brought the glass to his lips and drank half the contents.

"Steve-"

"Turned out to be a trap."

I sucked in a sudden breath in shock. Not that traps hadn't been laid out before. "Crossbones?"

He shook his head. "I wish." He reached out for the bourbon and refilled the glass. He couldn't get drunk, but he obviously wanted to achieve that state and quickly. "No. Some mercenary group who thought they could make a name for themselves by taking down Nomad. Apparently, there's a hefty bounty on all of us."

I knew that. Hell, knew several bounty requests existed. The whats and whos varying greatly. I just honestly thought no one would have the balls to try to take on three former Avengers and The Winter Soldier. Hell, the only one of them that would be easy, and by easy I meant the least difficult not _actually_ easy, to take down would be Sam. The only truly mortal one among them. And truthfully the only real interest in Sam had been his Exo module.

And they hadn't been alone. Three damn near fearless Wakandans had gone with them. Each one tough as nails in their own right, together they could face off pretty much anything without breaking a sweat. And they'd been hurt as well, just not as bad as Sam and Wanda.

I made certain Steve had always been briefed on anything new regarding danger to him or his team. How I missed this I had no idea. "What happened?"

He sipped the drink before answering. "The dam break was real, but not natural I'd be willing to bet. We were digging out the town when they ambushed us." He stared at the liquid in his glass, not willing to meet my eyes quite yet. "Their first volley damaged the quinjet and trapped us. Then they just kept firing at our location."

I didn't move, his posture screaming his need to be held together, but his tone, his eyes… they carried a dangerous pain that kept me away. He _wanted_ to hurt, to feel every bit of torment that telling me brought screaming to the surface. He felt responsible for everything that had gone wrong and, I suspected, gone right.

"Sam got hurt when trying to scout a safe route out. Shot him right out of the sky." He shook his head, eyes closing for a long moment. "Wanda and the Wakandans… protecting some of the locals. The third RPG too much for her, she took the brunt of the explosion-" He came to a sudden verbal halt, downed the contents of the glass, poured more and drank that as well.

"They had us pinned down. Had weapons our armour couldn't stop and had no intention of taking us alive. Not that I cared about me, but the locals… they would be killed one and all to cover up the mess us being tougher than expected had caused."

He turned and met my eyes, his haunted with the memory of what he'd done.

He didn't say a word for long minutes giving me time to run through all the scenarios possible. If he… they wouldn't leave the locals, the innocents behind, would protect them until unable to any longer. Had done everything in their power with the wrong gear and probably limited weapons. I mean, they went in with rescue gear, if they had anything other than knives and shovels I would have been surprised. Which left… "How did you get out?"

He shivered in the relative warmth of the room. "No way all of us were getting out of there, especially with two of us hurt bad enough to need evac, but one? Yeah, with the right distraction we could get one of us out."

I thought back to their conditions when they'd arrived. He'd explained Wanda's and Sam's injuries, but not his own. "You played distraction."

He nodded, gaze returning to the darkened view out the window. "N'dolo helped, but tactically it was the only real option. So, I told Bucky to get to the high ground to take as many of them out as possible."

I swallowed hard. Bucky Barnes had been one hell of a sniper back in the days he ran with the Howling Commandos, a skill that had been warped and improved during his tenure with Hydra. "No, you sent the Soldier," I argued and knew my words to be the truth.

James would have gotten the job done well enough, but the Soldier… he didn't fail and worked with a frightening efficiency.

Steve looked over at me, guilt in his entire bearing. "Yes."

Okay, that explained a few things. Though why the Soldier had still been in control when they'd gotten back here baffled me. "What else happened?"

Steve sighed heavily, running one had through his hair. "When the mercs realized we were picking them off one by one they took hostages… children and threatened to kill them if we didn't surrender willingly."

"They'd have been better offer negotiating their freedom."

Steve nodded in agreement. "I probably would have let them leave if they'd taken that tack."

I moved to stand before him, he needed my presence to finish this. Needed to know I would forgive him for making a decision that he believed to be a necessary evil. "How many did they kill?" To most of those outside the reality SHIELD, the military, and the Avengers lived in they would have never even come to the conclusion I had. But I wasn't an outsider, not really, I had all the stories in their full graphic horror from my Gramps and war, no matter the flavor, always ended in blood and death. This war that Steve fought under the guise of Nomad no different. He still battled for honor and honesty and truth, even though all of those were a hard thing to find in this day in age. He refused to back down in his almost archaic compulsion to do what was right and always paid the cost himself where he could, only rarely sharing the burden he bore with others.

I felt honored to be among those few he truly and without a doubt trusted.

"Just one. Sliced her throat as we watched. All of ten years old. Bucky-" he choked on his friend's name, swallowed with obvious difficulty then continued on. "The Soldier fired a single shot, _through_ the girl and took the son of a bitch down.

"Then he hunted the rest of them down and killed them." Obvious, I supposed, no way the Soldier could have permitted a single one of them to live, but the deaths, which would have meant little to the Soldier, would have broken James. He no longer wished to kill, only did so out of absolute necessity, which thankfully had been rare.

Until now.

And Steve had ordered him to do so.

Little wonder the man felt such guilt.

Even less wonder why even with the Soldier steering the ship his eyes looked haunted instead of cold.

I set a hand on Steve's arm, intending to take the glass from him and give him the hug he almost felt ready for when a voice intruded.

"Laurin?"

I poked my head out of the kitchen to see James standing the doorway of my bedroom, rubbing one eye, hair standing up oddly on one side thanks to drying mashed into my chest and shoulder. It would have been comical if I hadn't looked him in the eye and saw the last person I expected staring back at me.

Bucky Barnes gazed out of the soulful, pained blue eyes.

Not James.

Most certainly not The Soldier.

Wonderful. Just fucking marvelous. Just what the poor man needed; another personality floating about in his mind. I'd suspected this to be possible based on his most recent neural map, but hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Then again, this situation might very well have been enough to fragment the personalities buried in his mind. Not in full Sybil fashion, but more of an amalgam. The Soldier and James having traded control with ease in the months I'd known him, but Bucky… the original owner of the mind and body…

This in no way could be a good sign, but I had no idea how to fix it.

At least I had some understanding as to why.

"Hey, sorry, we didn't mean to wake you." I stepped into full view dragging Steve along with me.

Steve refused to meet his friend's eyes.

Son of a bitch. Steve blamed himself for his friend's current messed up mental condition, rightly so in my opinion, but at the same time, it had probably been the only feasible tactical decision to make.

"When did you last sleep?"

Steve grunted as if kicked. "A while," he finally admitted.

And he'd been hurt and needed to heal. Sleep sounded like the best remedy at the moment.

I didn't feel tired so much as worn down. Holding together a bunch of heroes when they broke took a lot of energy from me. The fact that I _had_ to do it drove me nuts sometimes. I couldn't _not_ help them. Could not deny them the comfort or the understanding ear that eased their pain even as it only added to mine.

"Come on." I tugged him forward and he managed two steps before balking. Digging in his heels and forcing me to stop.

"I have stuff to do. Checking on Wanda, Sam, and the others. Figuring out how the hell I missed this-"

"All of which can wait six hours. They have the best care possible and I sicced Dio on the the problem ages ago. He'll wake us if anything of importance happens." I cupped his cheek with my free hand. "You need to rest and reset. Go at this with a fresh perspective in the morning."

He knew I was right, but wanted to argue, wanted to get to it now even though his mind would fail to focus for more than few minutes at a time, the need to wallow in the mistakes taking precedence at the moment. And that was not such a good thing.

He glanced up at Bucky, all sleepy and looking so fucking young it was scary. They both needed the comfort and peace I could somehow grant them for a few hours.

I led him another couple steps towards the bedroom before he locked his knees and resisted any more forward motion. "I.. I don't have anything to wear."

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously? That's the only excuse you can come up with?"

He ducked his head then followed me without any additional argument. I stopped next to Bucky, I couldn't think of him as James right now and kissed him on the cheek. "You too," I told him, making it clear we'd all be in that bed together.

Bucky bobbed his head, cheeks pinking ever so slightly, but didn't argue, just shuffled back over to the bed and settled onto it, taking the spot my clothes and hair had surely left damp, but not seeming to care. He did flip the pillow over, but nothing more. Just waited.

I went to my stash of stolen clothes and pulled out a t-shirt belonging to James; the fit would be close enough, and another among my never ending pairs of shorts and cut-off sweats that I seemed to collect. I tossed a pair of the latter at Steve along with the tee, who caught both and did little more than stare at them.

"You can change in there, buttercup, if you're worried about your virtue." I waved at the bathroom door. I'd seen the man naked any number of times, but he still played the shy card when with me. More his own personal morals than mine, of course, but lucky for him I still found it cute instead of annoying.

James, on the other hand, once we'd crossed that particular line, hadn't given a great god damn. Stripping in front of me with a casualness that suggested he'd never really had a reason to be modest. Or perhaps given the opportunity to be. I doubted his handlers cared if he'd rather not be buck naked in front of a room full of strangers.

No, his existence had been pretty much shut up and Soldier for the majority of it.

And let's be real here, he had nothing to be embarrassed about and, based on stories from Steve, had been damn proud of his looks long before Hydra messed with his mind.

Steve, on the other hand, still had self-image problems. I swear to god that when he looked in the mirror he still saw that skinny runt who had been pushed around and called names and told he'd never be worth anything, including giving his life for his country. Worthless.

He stood near the top of the list of the best people I knew. Kind, and selfless and willing to sacrifice anything not just to get the job done, but for friends. Hell, for total strangers in the right situation. This one a prime example of that.

He turned his back grumbling but didn't avail himself of the bathroom, not able to back down from my challenge. When his shirt came off I could see the damage he'd taken in the form of dark bruises, scrapes, and stitches all over his torso. Any normal human would be bedridden in pain, or a really good drug high. Steve, my idiot, just kept going. Kept pushing. Kept holding up the weight of the world on those broad shoulders no matter how heavy the burden became.

And there were days I knew the weight weighed upon him, body and soul.

T-shirt on, he pulled off the pants and got into the sleep shorts; the boxers barely seen he moved so fast. Then he neatly folded his clothes and set them atop the bureau before turning about, hands on his hips.

"What?" he all but whined.

I strode over to him and wrapped my arms around him, mashing my face into his shoulder much as James had done to me earlier. I wanted to take some of that burden from him, as much as my comparatively weak shoulders could handle, show him he was not and would never be alone in this.

To save him as much as he saved others.

It took a moment, but he gave in, holding me with a desperation that matched the guilt and anger he currently buried deep inside. He tucked his face against my neck and sighed raggedly, not willing to speak for fear of the dam breaking, the flood of words and emotions that would follow too great for me to contain. Or so he feared.

He worried that one day he would say or do the wrong thing and chase me away. That I might look at him in disgust and horror for the necessity had been forced upon him.

And since he would outlive me by centuries quite possibly I did all I could in this moment to assure him that someone cared, regardless of what he had done.

When he shuddered unexpectedly, I recognized for the what it truly was: exhaustion.

"C'mon, you. To bed."

He straightened, looking me in the eye as if prepared to argue, but instead nodded, the aching need of the solace unconsciousness could grant calling to him. He wanted to forget, if only for a short while. To shrug off the burden of command and hand it to another, to give up that rigid control he always maintained if only for a short amount of time.

And that fact that he not only could but did when with me damn near brought tears to my eyes. I fought them as I encouraged him over to the bed and to lie down on the side opposite Bucky. He started to shift towards the middle but froze when I shook my head. Instead, I moved to the end of the bed and crawled up between them.

I couldn't help but feel at least a touch of amusement at the situation. How many women and no few men had dreamed of exactly this. A supersoldier sandwich with themselves in the middle. Sadly this version would in no way be as fun as those elusive fantasies.

I wiggled under the covers, Bucky's wary gaze on me the entire time. I curled up against Steve's shoulder, one of his arms curling about my waist. He kissed me on the forehead and then shifted until reasonably comfortable. The instant he stopped moving Bucky rolled, his head impacting my spine between my shoulder blades, his legs tangling with mine, his left arm also wrapping about me, though lower that the one already there.

I tried to suck in a deep breath only to fail. The weight on my back preventing me from being able to do so. I didn't complain though, the contact easing the tension in him instantly and permitting him to relax and begin that slow slide back into the land of Nod.

Steve's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the muscles under my cheek softening with each exhale as he permitted himself to drift if not actually fall into sleep.

I lay there listening to my two boys breath for a fair fifteen minutes, waiting for the inevitable nightmares to begin and mentally placing bets who would be first when Dio spoke up.

" _Shall I continue now?"_ He sounded all kinds of put out for having been interrupted earlier.

I sighed softly, given I hadn't planned on sleeping anyway, I might as well work I suppose. "Sure."

Dio picked up right where he had left off, but I didn't hear a word of it. No, I pondered the ramifications of the man lying on my back having three distinct personalities battling for dominance in his mind.

And that it might be my fault.

I had no clue if we'd be able to put that particular genie back into its bottle.


	2. Chapter 2

_side b_

 _._

 _Bucky's POV_

 _. ._

"Have Bobbi and Hunter made a decision yet?" Sam questioned, and not for the first time.

Bobbi wanted in at least partially for the protection that came with joining Nomad. Rinn had no issues offering sanctuary to any of the former agents that could be verified as SHIELD as opposed to Hydra. Those she might very well shoot herself if they appeared on her doorstep.

"Bobbi is all in last I spoke to her," Steve reminded.

More than all in, she wanted to be a part of something again, something bigger than herself, something that would let her do some good in this fucked up world. More the fool she, but then again look where I'd ended up. Playing hero once again with Steve Rogers by my side.

"Hunter on the other hand…" Steve frowned, clearly not as welcoming of the former mercenary. Given the trouble we'd had in the last couple of months I couldn't blame him.

The man, Lance Hunter, trusted no one at the moment except Bobbi Morse, which was understandable given the last time he had the two of them had ended up burned and on the run.

"I find it hard to believe he would abandon Bobbi," Wanda commented, setting the tablet with his profile on the screen, down.

"He won't. He just needs a compelling reason to come along for the ride," I pointed out. "This could be one." I swiped across my tablet sending the information to the main screen.

Sam laughed. "You've done your homework on him. Yeah, that might just do it."

I shrugged. "We don't have money to throw at him so I figured toys would be the next best thing."

Steve nodded. "We can spare it. Make the offer. Next on the agenda-"

He didn't get the chance to finish. Rinn staggered into the common room, where we usually combined breakfast with the daily meeting, walked right over to me, draped her arms over my shoulders and pulled me into the fiercest hug I have ever experienced. Seconds later I felt hot tears hit my shoulder and I dropped the tablet to wrap my arms around her waist and hold her steady.

"Babydoll, what's wrong?"

She failed to respond in anything even vaguely resembling words. I looked over at Steve feeling utter bewilderment and no little worry.

He blinked. Twice. Then to Sam and Wanda. "Go check on her staff. Make sure they're all right."

They glanced at each other, then at Laurin who hadn't acknowledged their existence at all. I doubted they took any offense given the worry creasing Sam's brow.

"Of course," Wanda agreed without hesitation. "We'll let you know what we find."

I watched them leave, both of them looking back over their shoulders at us, but I had no more clue than they did. I rubbed my hands up and down her back, hoping, now that the others were gone, that she'd talk to us.

"Laurin, talk to us, please," Steve didn't quite plead, but I could hear the concern in his voice and see it in his eyes.

Her only reaction to his plea to turn her head and press her face into the side of my neck.

I had no idea how to help her.

Steve took a couple of steps back and tapped the comms link behind his ear. "Dio, what was Rinn doing before she came here?"

"She answered a phone call."

I don't know what Steve had done to get Dio to include me on the replies, but at least I wouldn't be making guesses based on the questions Steve asked.

"And what was said in this phone call?"

" _I'm not permitted to monitor phone calls unless expressly told to do so,"_ Dio reminded him in a put-upon tone.

The computer doing exactly that and repeating conversations that should not have been the reason behind that particular dictate. Especially since the parts repeated had been taken entirely out of context. Rinn had been pissed and immediately made adjustments to the privacy protocols in Diogenes that had solved any future problems of that type.

Still, the damage had been done and it took weeks to repair the hurt feelings that had been caused.

Steve sighed in frustration. "You can tell me who the call was from, yes?"

" _Of course. Seaview."_

I flinched at that even as Steve's eyes shut for a long moment.

Seaview was the fancy retirement condo Rinn's Gramps lived at. I'd met the man at the Tower when he'd been brought in to help put her back together. He had helped, but not enough. The man nearly as old as me and Steve, but still spry given his age. He adored Rinn in a way that had been almost surprising given she'd been his great-grandchild. Close to a seventy year age gap between them.

Then again the same could be said for the two of us.

The man had been an honor to meet and pass the time with. His war stories a refreshing perspective on those years of hell.

If Seaview had called…

"Steve-"

"Let me go make a call, you do what you can with Rinn."

Steve turned and left the room, phone in hand, probably intending to call Seaview, though based on Rinn's current state we all knew what had happened.

Her Gramps had most likely passed away and it had left her an emotional wreck.

"Ah, babydoll, I'm so sorry."

She sucked in a breath, held it for an exceedingly long moment, before releasing it with an emotionally induced series of hitches.

With no way to ease her current suffering, I simply held her, not about to complain given what she had done for me just a few weeks ago. I'd been a mess after that one mission and come back with my mind so scrambled that I'd had no control over who I at any moment. I'd flipped between the Soldier and me - James - with no rhyme or reason. Hell, there'd been times the Soldier had been driving the ship while I simply watched from somewhere behind my eyes.

She had been eternally patient and kind and loving and not once judging me for what I had done.

Neither of us had been known for getting overtly emotional. In fact, she, much like the rest of us, tended to keep her troubles to herself. The fact that she had confided in me and, more, that she had come to me at this moment meant a lot to me.

Scared me more than a bit too.

I mean, I was a walking talking disaster area who still had days I felt unworthy of the least little bit of kindness I received. And yet from this crazy group of people I'd fallen in with I'd gotten so much more. Steve, the idiot trusted me simply because I looked like his Bucky and I'd done everything in my power to earn that trust. The others had trusted him in the beginning and me later on.

Rinn, the last person I had expected to fall into my life, had never seen anything other than _me_. It hadn't been a matter of trust; for she'd had no clue who she stood before, who she had chosen to help. She hadn't known me from Job but had done everything in her power to fix me. To give me the opportunity to be a real boy once again.

And never asked for anything in return.

So, coming to me clearly heartbroken when previously she had turned to Steve at such times meant… meant a fuckton.

Well, she had warned me I'd get my turn.

Not that she hadn't dampened the shoulder of a shirt or two before, but that had been during her recovery at the Tower. She'd abused a lot of shoulders during those weeks, including those of her Gramps.

This time Steve would have to deal with the mundane tasks, I had more important things to deal with.

She'd not said a single word, just sobbed silently on my shoulder, giving in to her emotion only as much as she felt able.

I took a page from her book, set my hands on her waist and gently pushed to create some space between us. Her arms dropped to her sides, head still tipped down, not able to meet my eyes. I cupped her cheek with my left hand, not needing her to lift her head, just so she knew I was here. "Trust me?"

She did this odd snort/laugh combo then nodded.

"Let's get out of here."

She didn't argue, didn't complain or disagree so I took that as a tacit yes. Shifting my hand from her face to her hand I pondered where to go and, yes, I considered bed, but unlike me who hadn't been able to talk at the time, I knew she needed to, but would need to do so in her own time.

Staying here would give her the excuse to close down and hide even if all of us puppy-piled atop her. She'd pretend the word didn't exist and not say a single word. I'd seen her do exactly that and it had been that much harder to get her to open up later. And if we had known how bad she'd been hurt I so would have made her talk sooner.

So, preemptive strike it would be.

"C'mon."

I led her out of the common room, down the stairs, out the side entrance of the Keep and into the early morning sunshine.

I headed for the garage where we kept the vehicles, certain that nothing here would serve as a distraction for the pain and misery that currently occupied the majority of her mind. The repairs to old stable had not yet been completed except for the roof and walls, the interior still stripped bare, the floor hard-packed dirt that didn't even leave tire impressions. Good thing since there now resided three cars and two motorcycles within. Rinn hadn't left anyone out with her vehicle buying spree choosing cars befitting both Wanda and Sam's personal tastes. I and Steve preferred the bikes but had use of any of the other cars when the occasion demanded it.

She had also amassed, more for Nomad than Cyko, several off-road vehicles of varying styles to act as transport for us and our trainees. Steve had balked at first, but Rinn had worked out a payment plan so Steve, our fearless leader, wouldn't feel as if he… we lived off her handouts.

She supported Nomad still, but within a year or so we'd be self-sufficient and no longer need her able assistance. After that… well, Steve was already talking about expanding beyond the castle. Leaving Rinn and Cyko behind, though not unprotected, wanting to remain nearby, but not sharing space quite so closely.

While I wanted no part of going my separate ways from Rinn, I did agree with the need for Nomad to stand on its own, in its own home. Wherever that may end up being. We'd been lucky so far. Only the fact that we had done nothing other than assist during disasters and play bodyguard to those who could afford it had kept us from being arrested by any of a dozen countries or the UN.

I left the doors propped open, grabbed a pair of helmets and held one out for her to take.

She gave me the blankest look I had ever seen. Her eyes stared right through me as if totally unaware of my presence at the moment. I set one helmet on the seat of the bike then reached out and cupped her cheek, her skin cool against my palm. "Hey, you in there?"

It took a few moments but she finally blinked several times, then nodded. Just a quick up and down of her head.

I placed the helmet atop her head and patted it down into place. Even though neither of us was easy to injure much less kill, I would still take no chances with her life. Not that I had any intention of crashing, but shit happened. I'd rather wear the damn helmet than suffer a severe head injury. I'd just gotten my full memories back, I had no interest in losing them again.

"Dio, privacy mode, please. Passive tracking only."

" _And if Captain Rogers becomes insistent?_ " Dio responded.

I thought about it. Rinn didn't need a shoulder to cry on, not Steve's anyway, but he would worry if she remained out of contact for too long. "Then tell him where we are, but remind him she's not alone."

" _That's agreeable. Will my Mistress be all right_?"

Dio's voice switched between the sentences, two completely different and distinct personas, something I had gotten used to over the last few months. Rinn wanted to see how Dio would develop if given the freedom to choose. Not quite an AI, he still had a distinctive personality no matter what voice he spoke with.

I straddled the bike and put on my helmet, starting it up with a roar before answering. "I hope so, Dio."

I looked back over my shoulder at Laurin, the glass hiding my face and thus my concern from her sight. Her shoulders sagged, her head tipped down and slightly turned away from me. I held out my hand without saying a word, waiting for her to make a decision. Though it could be possible that in her current state of mind she might not be capable of one. So focused on the pain and misery her mind currently swam in that everything else perforce got pushed aside.

Still, I knew the instant her attention returned to the here and now; to me.

Her shoulders came back up and she strode over to me, took my hand and swung her leg over the bike. We'd done this a few times since my birthday, making it work, though the seat had never been designed for two. We could have taken Steve's bike, I supposed, he wouldn't have minded, but I liked how close she had to sit, her arms wrapped snugly about my waist, her weight a comfortable presence at my back.

The instant she settled I let the bike go and launched us into the early morning sunshine. In mere moments we burst through the gates that Dio opened at our speedy approach and turned left onto the road. Not the usual direction and it would take us deeper into the mountains and further away from civilization. The nearest town of any size in this direction several hours away and technically in another country. Not that we'd be going anywhere near it.

I'd spent a fair amount of time on these roads, working on a personal project that had Steve curious as fuck, but that he'd also not asked about. I knew he worried that one day I'd go for a ride and not return, and, yeah, it was a risk, but since I'd gotten my memories back the need to do something with the knowledge had dragged at me. This bike had been the final piece I'd needed, with it everything had fallen into place and I'd succeeded far beyond even my expectations.

And all thanks to the woman resting against my back.

Knowing there were no dramatic curves in the near future even considering the speed we currently maintained, I released the clutch as I wouldn't be using it for a bit and set my hand atop hers. She shifted instantly, fingers of her left hand twining with mine, squeezing tight. My left arm might be cybernetic, but the amount of sensitivity had been greatly increased. In many ways, it felt as if the hand were real, the sensation of touch nearly identical to that of my right.

So, yes, I felt how tightly she held on, her nails biting into the metal with what would have been a painful amount of force. Her head shifted, the front of the helmet resting against the middle of my back, as close as she could come to pressing her forehead to me, and felt her shudder. The emotional release silenced by the simple fact I'd left the comms off between us. She didn't like breaking down in front of any of us, so this allowed her to do so and still have the privacy she wanted. Let her hide what she saw as weakness, to give in for just a few moments and let go. The helmet would probably fog up, but it didn't matter.

I held her hand, reminding her she was not alone and drove.

. . .

I pulled over on an abandoned road that curved around and up the side of the mountain. There'd been a landslide that had taken out a huge chunk of the mountainside, including the road, but instead of digging out and rebuilding they'd said fuck it and blown a tunnel through the mountain, leaving the former route to fall apart as nature wished.

Oddly enough it had survived for dozens of years, crumbling about the edges here and there, but still drivable. Yeah, it technically went nowhere, but the view… The view from the side of the mountain remained fucking amazing.

I coasted the bike to a stop, holding it steady as she dismounted, then turned the motor off and set the kickstand. I watched her as she removed the helmet and shook her hair out. It had grown to just past her shoulders, still short compared to the waist length waterfall that she'd had prior to her adventure with AIM, but still that lovely pale blonde I thoroughly enjoyed running my fingers through.

She tucked the helmet under her arm, gave me a blank look and then walked towards the end of the road. The road closed signs had faded with time, but still warned of the danger beyond them. Rinn set her helmet on one of the uprights, then wiggled her way between the strands of barbed wire and metal slatting that had clearly not been maintained for ages making it far too easy for her.

I sighed softly and got off the bike, hanging my helmet from one of the handlebars. The edge had been fairly stable the last time I'd been out here, so I didn't feel the need to warn her. She had a brain and could see for herself if the edge were in danger of collapsing. She was upset, not suicidal.

I followed along, bypassing the obstacle by simply jumping over it. There were advantages to being enhanced, not that I used them often when not in a life or death situation. I mean, it did make cleaning under the bed easier or rather rescuing the trapped Roomba when it got stuck underneath the bed thanks to a misplaced shoe, but I rarely felt the need to lift a truck on an average day.

Neither did Rinn. Aside from keeping her alive, her 'bots did little, which was a good thing given the harder they worked the sooner they died. And they'd been worked exceedingly hard when she'd been held captive by AIM. Forcing them to heal her over and over and over. How she managed to smile on an average day still impressing me to no end given what I now knew. The fact that I had contributed to those occasions a source of both surprise and pride to me.

That I could in any way make her happy an honor that I endeavored to be worthy of each and every day.

She stood at the edge of the road, the drop a long and potentially fatal one for both of us. Enhanced did not mean unkillable. We could both die, her more easily than me in some ways, but, in my case at least, it wouldn't be due to old age. A bullet to the head, however, might just be enough to do me in permanently.

Not that I was overly interested in finding out. Getting shot hurt.

I stopped beside her, watching her as she stared out over the empty air before us. The valley seemed to go on for miles and miles and miles and we were high enough up that everything appeared to go down from here. The sun hung high overhead, with just enough clouds for shadows in be visible on the ground below us. In the far distance, you could see that snow still painted the tips of the mountains white even this deep into summer.

I turned away, admiring the perfect scene before me, tucking my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. "Hell of a view."

She flinched then swiveled her head about as if seeing the world spread out before her for the first time. "Wow," she said softly confirming my guess. "How'd you find this place?"

I shrugged. "Following a memory. The road changed while I'd been sleeping. Wanted to see why."

She cocked her head slightly as if debating whether or not to ask the question on her tongue. "Good memory or bad?"

"Neither. Just a memory I needed to follow up on." I had little doubts that she knew exactly what I'd been doing on my little field trips. Maybe not the details, the specifics of what I'd been looking for, but the general idea.

She did turn to look at me then, but I kept my gaze forward, not certain I could keep my poker face up for long. "If you ever want some company…" she trailed off, the words choked off as the tears began to fall.

I shifted over to her and she buried her head solidly into my shoulder, which probably hurt like hell since it had been my left shoulder, the metal alloy not exactly forgiving to breakable human flesh, and just stood there taking in huge gulps of air while I gently ran my hands up and down her back until she got herself back under control.

The sun had moved noticeably before she pulled back. Not that I cared. We could stand in this place for days if it helped. Not that it could.

She stepped away and I let her, moving to the actual edge and sitting down, legs dangling over the precipice without a trace of concern in her mien. She wiped away the tears and sniffled for a few seconds before she heaved a great sigh.

"Do you ever miss them?"

"Uh, who?" I asked as I settled beside her. Palms flat on the hot surface. She placed her hand atop mine, wanting some kind of contact, but not requiring the actual shoulder to cry on at the moment.

"Your family."

 _Ouch._ Now if that wasn't a seriously painful subject. "Um. Of course, I do. Not like I got the opportunity to say to goodbye or anything." If the words came out harsher than I intended it was more because of the fact that I'd avoided this subject. A lot. Since the return of my memories, I'd dreamed of them. Dreamed about my mom and dad, my siblings, friends I'd had during that first life so exceedingly long ago and wondered if they'd lived happy lives once I'd been taken away. I mean, I knew they survived. Lived and married and died, but the details were lost to time. Just a series of records in dusty basements in various boroughs in New York. I had distant cousins alive today, but my family had been nothing more than an anecdote on history and only because I'd died.

"Why not?" she asked much to my confusion and consternation.

I huffed out a breath. "Because as far as they knew I died?"

"You're here now," she pointed out astutely.

I had the greatest urge to rub my face in my hands until the skin felt raw since I had absolutely no clue what she meant with her proclamation of obviousness. "Rinn-"

"You have family. I believe two of your younger siblings still live. Don't you want to see them?" She sounded so damnably reasonable and entirely too earnest.

I shook my head. Of course, I wanted to see them, but I hadn't dared. Hadn't wanted to ruin the lives they'd made for themselves. Hadn't wanted to force them to face the horrors their brother had committed. "They don't need the mess that I'd bring."

"Mess? What mess?"

I sighed heavily. "Those decades as the Winter Soldier come to mind. They won't want any part of me." I believed that. And could understand the sentiment. If I were to go see them I bring nothing but trouble and SHIELD and the ATCU and the UN down upon their heads. No, they deserved to be left in peace. To be able to mourn the man who'd died on that mountain.

Not the monster I became.

She twisted about and I turned to meet her eyes. "Do you really think they give a flying fuck about what you've done? Do you think for one instant your sister wouldn't hug you hard enough to crack your ribs? That your many cousins, nieces, and nephews wouldn't be in awe of the fact they were related to _the_ Bucky Barnes?"

"You make it sound as if I'm a great hero," I scoffed, which earned me a bark of laughter.

"That's exactly what you are, James Buchanan Barnes, a war hero. The only Howling Commando to give his life-"

"Oh god, stop. You're quoting the Smithsonian exhibit." I could remember that moment of horrified realization. Of the sudden understanding that the stranger from the bridge, the stranger that I somehow knew, had been telling the truth. That he knew me and that I had been his friend.

"Actually, I'm quoting the textbook, but the phrasing is similar."

"Textbook?" I questioned, feeling hysteria bubble up in the back of my mind. No way she could mean what came to mind at those words.

She must have seen the thoughts on my face for she laughed softly as she reached out to pat me on the cheek in an almost comforting manner. "Oh, sweetheart, you really have no idea do you?"

I turned my head into her hand and pressed my lips into her palm, her skin cool against mine. She sucked in a startled breath, not expecting me to show her my feelings. I watched her, the laughter fading from her eyes as the sadness crept back in.

"Tell me," I requested softly, lowering her hand, but not releasing it.

"History class. You, Steve, the Howling Commandos get an entire chapter. Granted I went to school on a military base so it went a bit more in depth than your typical public school, but you are there. You are remembered for the sacrifices you made."

"But what are they saying about me today?" I grumbled. Hell, if it wasn't for her and the line in the sand she'd drawn, all four of us would probably be behind bars. Or on the run. Hiding in the shadows and not doing a bit of good for anyone. Hard to save the day when you had to save your own ass first.

"Your family won't care. You know Peggy was still alive when Steve woke up, yes?"

I nodded. Steve didn't talk about it much, but I'd heard about it. How he'd visit her every chance he could. The fact that while she remembered him, she'd also forget right in the middle of a conversation. That'd he'd been at her wake when my reappearance made the news.

"She was just glad to have him back."

"You spoke to Peggy?" I asked, startled. It wouldn't really surprise me if she had, but I couldn't see Steve sharing his best girl, even with Rinn.

"No. No. That would have been… weird. But Steve talked about her and I would happily listen. God, so many stories I heard about you from my Gramps. Some second or third hand, but so damn _real._ He made certain I knew war was anything but glorious, but that didn't dissuade me. Not really." She turned away from me, head tipping down, viewing the long fall between her swinging feet. "And then to not only get to meet the legendary Captain America but work with him?"

"Oh dear god, you're a fangirl."

Rinn tipped her head back chuckling. "Not a chance in hell. Gramps made certain I understood the price Steve had paid. That while he'd been a hero, he'd never really gotten the chance to live. Steve… both of you lost everything in that damn war, least I could do was treat you like people."

"As opposed to?"

"Hallowed idols resting upon a golden pedestal. So many miraculous things were attributed to you and the Howlies that you damn near earned god status."

"So what happened? When did people decide we were no longer worthy?"

"Hydra I suspect. How better to erase hope than to forget those who offered it the most. Gramps made certain I always had hope, no matter how bleak the situation looked."

And in this, I knew she referred to her near brush with death. Her illness taking her to a brink similar to the one we sat at and then like now we would get up and walk away, reasonably whole.

"I honestly thought he would outlive me."

"Rinn-"

She cut me off yet again. Whatever I had to say not about to knock her off the rut she found herself stuck within. "Don't waste the opportunity. If you want to see them, do it, before you can't."

She had a good point. "I will take it under advisement," I told her with what I hoped was all due sincerity, "but why did you think he'd outlive you? He's… he was my age." She had a good head on her shoulders and given she'd lost both her father and brother to sudden, surprise death could in no way be blind to the reality that life ended eventually.

She sniffed twice before replying, "Younger actually. Lied to get into the army at sixteen. I've seen photos, he looked older and was built like a running back. No way they'd say no even if they did cotton onto the lie."

"He's… he'd…" Damn it, Laurin would not be able to get past this with me failing to acknowledge the man in the past tense. "No, him watching you die…" I shook my head. "Better this way. He's had enough people he loves leave him. You would have been one too many."

She stared at me in open-mouthed shock for a long moment before nodding slowly in agreement. "His son, his grandson, his great-grandson. Family he never expected to outlive."

"But he still had you." And he had. She might not have been living next door and visiting daily, but she had stayed involved in his life. Made certain he had anything he could possibly need or want, gave him every moment she could spare and more that she couldn't from her busy schedule.

And then it hit me.

She'd just lost the only family member that hadn't turned their back on her.

Lost her only connection to people she cared about enough to stay away when they'd disowned her.

When some of them had purposely betrayed her.

Yes, she had us and the family she built here, but they were not her blood and while it shouldn't, I knew it made a difference.

Not only had she lost a man she cared about deeply, but she'd lost her hope.

"You know I love you, yes?"

I... twitched didn't quite cover it since I didn't actually move physically. My heart did pause before tripling in speed. I felt my skin flush and then pale in rapid succession. All of this took place in a matter of seconds though it felt like hours.

The freakiest part? I had known. Knew she loved me. She had never said anything so neither had I, especially after our talk on my birthday. What we felt for each other not part of our current arrangement.

I sometimes considered talking her into more, into reconsidering that possibility for a happily ever after, but always kept my mouth shut.

And now here she was making proclamations that I had no clue how to respond to. So I stole a line from a movie that we'd watched a few weeks back. "I know."

The corner of her lip curled upward, but she didn't expand her statement or question why I had not returned the sentiment. She would not permit me to tie myself to someone who might not live more than a few years. Hell, even if she did make it to the ripe old age I currently enjoyed, I would have changed little, while she… well, aged. According to her Steve and me might look like twenty-somethings for the rest of our existences. And how long that might actually be she had no guess other than a long, _long,_ time.

I mean not like there had been a whole lot of serum enhanced soldiers before WWII. We were writing the manual for this and no one, including Stark, had a clue how the story might end.

Well, other than death, obviously.

"Why now?" I asked once my heart rate had slowed to a reasonable speed.

She sighed softly. "Because you should know just in case something happens."

"Nothing's going to happen," I told her in what I hoped was a reassuring tone.

She gave me an eye roll that would have made Stark proud. "Don't be naive. Something always happens. I just... I just wanted you to know you are worth caring about, on a personal level."

"You love Steve, you gonna make this proclamation to him too?" I kinda regretted the words the moment I said them, but only kinda. Mostly due to the fact that what she felt for Steve and what she felt for me weren't quite the same. Oh, she would have stayed my friend, loved me for the man I'd become even if we hadn't altered our relationship to that of a more intimate nature, but I suspected she still would have felt the difference. She simply would not have acted upon it.

"Probably. He'll freak out for a while then figure it out. It's not like he doesn't know, but..."

"But putting it into words makes it a little too real," I finished, given what I currently experienced after her statement. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you care about any of us?"

"Us? Or just you?"

A fair question I supposed. "Yes."

Her lips quirked at the response. One she'd given to me a time or two much to my annoyance before I understood, much as I could anyway, what that particular response entailed. Life and, more so, personal interactions were very different in this day and age.

Rinn had always been patient with me, forgiving of my quirks and sometimes antiquated views of relationships, though Steve still tended to be the problem child in that area more than myself.

She shrugged. "I don't see why I shouldn't really. Granted I had the dumb luck to meet Tony-"

"You were doing sims of his fighter jets."

She huffed at me for interrupting which made me smile.

"The chances he would actually show up had ranged from highly unlikely to no fucking chance in hell, but apparently he'd just had a run in with Coulson and needed some amusement. I honestly never thought I'd meet him."

"Even after proving him wrong?"

"Especially after. But he did and we did and the rest is history."

"Doesn't really answer the question though, doll."

She kicked her legs, bits of road and mountain coming loose to roll and bounce down the incline and towards the valley far below. "I fell in with the wrong crowd and they ended up becoming my friends?" she responded as if uncertain how else to answer the question.

"And then I showed up." I shook my head. "You only helped me because of Steve."

"At first maybe, but once you let me get to know you… I was honored that you trusted Steve enough to permit me to help."

"He thinks you're the bee's knees."

She managed a soft chuckle at that. "Yeah, he does. I fit in remarkably well with the SHIELD/Avengers crowd-"

"So why not join them." The instant I finished I had to rethink my choice of words. "I mean, you could have, clearly, so why didn't you." Stark had made it quite plain she'd be more than welcome at the Avengers Compound at any time, and I would bet dollars to doughnuts the current version of SHIELD would take her in with open arms. The negotiations with Bobbi Morse had been going so well partially because of Rinn's involvement.

She made an impression and it almost always seemed to be a good one.

"I'm not a spy or a soldier really."

I cocked an eyebrow at her, knowing she had planned to join the air force once upon a time. Then again the intent had been as a test pilot, a flyboy, which fit in with her personality. She would have not only flown those planes but assisted in their design. She'd proven that over and over again. Both Steve and Stark had praised her designs. If she had the capability of building her own she'd give both Stark and Wakanda a run for their money.

Instead, she basically gave them away. Trading those new designs for favors and equipment available now.

Because now is when we, meaning Nomad, needed them.

She thought we didn't know. Thought Steve wouldn't look into how we'd acquired a second quinjet of markedly different design, or the military-grade vehicles that had been appearing for Nomad's use.

Hadn't thought Steve would dig deeper after questioning her about it.

Yes, she had a lot of money, but not enough for these toys, which meant she'd cut deals along the way. Steve worried she'd put herself in a compromising position for us, but hadn't confronted her about it… yet.

Well, he wouldn't right now either.

"No, you're the glue."

She snorted. "And what does that mean?"

I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed the fingers with all due gravity. I watched her through my lashes, her eyes boring into mine as I pressed my lips to her skin taking my time before answering. "You hold us together."

She opened her mouth three times without managing a single word. In the end, she just shook her head.

"Yes. If you asked, hell if you just hinted, that Steve should move back to the Compound he probably would. If you asked Tony to join us here he would in a heartbeat."

"No. He's still angry," she stated in a surprisingly shaky voice.

"Yes, he would. Do you really think he couldn't have had that arc reactor installed in days if he'd wanted?" Even I'd been able to tell he'd dragged the whole thing out, taking nearly four weeks to make certain everything worked properly and wouldn't fry her older and exceedingly valuable primary servers.

Granted the man had only spoken to me or Steve when necessary, but that had felt mostly like a show. He'd spent an inordinate amount of time just observing the flow of humanity (all dozen and a half of us) in lieu of working. As if trying to understand the dynamics living here entailed.

I suspected it to be vastly different from living at the Compound.

She stared at me for a long moment, her hand curling about mine just a bit tighter.

"He cares about you. We all care about you. Your SHIELD friends care about you. _You_ are important to them, the fact that you're more than smart enough to keep up with them is just a bonus. They all trust you and tell you things that they probably shouldn't, knowing you will keep it to yourself. You carry their burdens and never once have you permitted it to bow your back. You are our strength, our center, our shoulder to cry on and I can safely say we'd fall apart without you."

And then it clicked, like a bright explosion in my mind, her Gramps had done all of that for her.

Little wonder she looked so lost and broken.

"Oh, baby doll, I am so, so sorry."

I didn't need to explain, didn't need to say anything in specific, didn't need to state it aloud, as always she just knew.

She sighed, sniffled and let the tears fall again, head nodding as she acknowledged that I'd figured it out. I scooted closer, just so that our shoulders touched, her hand still clasped within my and prepared to wait beside her for as long as she needed. She'd do… had done the same for me.

I'd probably do a poor job, but for the time being, as we sat on a crumbling ledge, I would hold her together.


End file.
